


looking so long (at these pictures of you)

by agentmmayy



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Chinese New Year, F/M, Fluff, Gen, literally that's it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-06
Updated: 2019-02-06
Packaged: 2019-10-23 04:04:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,417
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17676131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/agentmmayy/pseuds/agentmmayy
Summary: Hunter sneaks up into the attic of William May's house in search of a box full with embarrassing photos of Melinda. What he finds is unexpected in the best possible way.





	looking so long (at these pictures of you)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [independentalto](https://archiveofourown.org/users/independentalto/gifts).



> for serena who inspired this by a tumblr cny headcanon ask of 
> 
> "william took melinda to the lion dances every year until one year she was in them. granted, she was the butt but he took tons of pictures anyways (the photos remain in a box somewhere sealed in the may attic. hunter so did not try looking for them when he showed up at the house)"
> 
> this fic is in the same verse as my other fic 'miss me once in a while' but it isn't necessary to read that before :) hope you enjoy!

Upon waking up, Hunter immediately rolled over, flinging one arm out in search of soft skin and a familiar warmth. When he found none, Hunter frowned and took his face out of his pillow, blinking the last remains of sleep away. Only, Melinda wasn’t there, and there were no indications that she ever had been.  ****  
** **

Hunter’s heart sank before he could stop it. Dreaming was a possibility, but the bedroom Hunter was in wasn’t his own or even a motel one. William May’s guest room was more homely than the others Hunter had slept in over the past few weeks, but somehow felt lonelier. But there was someone in the house as Hunter could hear gentle noise downstairs. With a sigh, he rolled out of bed and went to the shower.  ****  
** **

When Hunter came down the stairs and into the kitchen, William was standing at the counter, stirring a mug. He glanced at Hunter. “Good morning.” ****  
** **

“Morning,” Hunter greeted. He took the offered mug gratefully, making a face down at the steaming liquid before taking a sip. Although the tea was nothing like what he was used to, it was still very good. Hunter took another drink before asking, “Where’s Mel?” ****  
** **

“She went to run a few errands for me,” William told him. “She should be back around ten. Did you sleep well?” ****  
** **

“Yeah.” For the first time in months, Hunter slept well, if only to wake up once or twice to check if Melinda was still in bed with him.  ****  
** **

“About time you got up,” William commented as he drank from his own mug. “Late night?” ****  
** **

Tea spluttered against the rim of the mug as Hunter coughed. He felt his cheeks heat up and it wasn’t because of the slight mess of tea on the table. Quickly, Hunter grabbed a napkin and focused on wiping the liquid up instead of meeting William’s gaze. “Yeah, uh, new bed takes some getting used to, you know?” ****  
** **

William only hummed, the corner of his mouth quirking up. “I’m sure.” ****  
** **

Too mortified to look at him, Hunter glanced around the kitchen. When his eyes swept over the fridge, he did a double take. “Is that Melinda?” ****  
** **

“Hm?” William turned to him before following Hunter’s gaze to the refrigerator. He squinted before chuckling. “Oh yes, that is Mellie’s senior portrait.”  ****  
** **

The picture was small, about the size one could fit in a wallet, so Hunter stood to get a closer look. Melinda looked to be around seventeen or eighteen. She was beautiful, obviously, but with much longer hair and a brightly patterned turtleneck sweater that Hunter knew she wouldn’t be caught dead in now. What caught Hunter off guard about the picture was the way Melinda was smiling. It was a wide, genuine smile that reached her eyes, and one Hunter has never seen her wear before.  ****  
** **

“I saw some other pictures of Mel when she was younger last night.” Hunter didn’t add that the pictures he saw were across from him on the mantel where he was sitting with Melinda dry humping him.  ****  
** **

At the mention of pictures, William lit up. “Oh, I have more.” He stood from the table. “Follow me.” ****  
** **

Hunter ended up sitting on the couch next to William as the man brought out a few thick photo albums from beneath the coffee table in the living room. William was extremely proud of his daughter, that much was obvious by the way he pulled out picture after picture of Melinda to show Hunter. Many of them were ones of Melinda and her accomplishments such as a black belt in jujitsu and one of Melinda holding a trophy nearly as big as she was in her ice skating costume. It was endearing to see Melinda so young, yet bittersweet to see her so happy and carefree.  ****  
** **

“I think there is a box up in the attic with more,” William mentioned as he closed the last album. “But Mellie sealed it and hid it where I cannot find it.” ****  
** **

“Sealed it?” Hunter asked. “Why?” ****  
** **

William chuckled. “Oh, she’s just embarrassed.” ****  
** **

It wasn’t easy for Melinda to be embarrassed. Hunter’s interest piqued even more. “Embarrassed?” ****  
** **

“I cannot tell you why,” William said with a glint of amusement in his eyes that Hunter occasionally saw in Melinda’s. “You’ll have to find the box and see for yourself.” ****  
** **

There wasn’t anything else he was planning to do and plenty of time to kill before Melinda was back. Hunter stood from the couch, perhaps too eagerly. “In the attic, you said?” ****  
** **

William nodded. “You access it through the laundry room. There’s an opening in the ceiling, and a ladder folds down. If Mellie asks, I did not tell you.” ****  
** **

“You got it.”  ****  
** **

The laundry room was near the garage and down the hallway. Hunter slipped on a pair of soft shoes before going into the room. As William said, there was a door in the ceiling, cut out only slightly, with a cord dangling from it. Hunter grabbed it stepping back as the door opened and a ladder descended down. Making sure it was firmly placed on the ground, Hunter climbed up, cursing as he clipped his head. The attic was stuffy, dark, and dusty as Hunter hoisted himself onto the landing. He sneezed and then sneezed again before finding the light switch on the wall. One single bulb hanging from the ceiling lit up.  ****  
** **

“Great,” he muttered. The light didn’t offer much, and if he was going to find a box of photos, Hunter needed to see. He was about to go back down before he remembered his phone. Pulling it out, Hunter turned on his flashlight and began to search.  ****  
** **

Most of the clutter in the large attic was furniture covered in white tarps that appeared ghostly in the fluorescent light from his phone. There were what looked like divider screens throughout the attic and even a bust of a mannequin that made Hunter jump when he saw it. The item that his eyes went straight to though was a large trunk shoved back between other boxes. Hunter dropped to his knees as he neared it and quickly undid the padlock before opening the top.  ****  
** **

There were what looked like dozens of photo albums in the trunk, all neatly stacked and placed. ****  
** **

“Yes,” Hunter breathed. He reached in and set to looking through them. The first two albums he skimmed through were ones with photos of what he assumed to be Melinda’s parents and their parents, so they weren’t too interesting. But the first page of the next one was an ultrasound and Hunter knew he was closer.  ****  
** **

Baby Melinda was adorable; he found out. There were also tons of photos of her, adding up to a whole album even before her first year.  ****  
** **

“Oh my god,” he snorted, taking a photo from between the plastic protector.  ****  
** **

The picture before him was of toddler Melinda and she was sporting a horrendous looking bowl cut. She was looking directly at the camera with her tongue sticking out in hilarious defiance that he would never have imagined. Hunter glanced back to the opening of the attic as if Melinda would pop her head up any minute. The coast was clear, so he quickly snapped a pic, and then another one before going back to searching.  ****  
** **

Another box and album later, he stumbled upon another photograph that had him pausing, but not to laugh. Instead, Hunter’s breath was taken away in a cliche he thought only existed in movies. In the photo, Melinda wasn’t looking at the camera, but she was laughing. She was probably in her mid-twenties when the photo was taken, glowing with the vibrancy of youth that agents lost too soon in Shield.  ****  
** **

Hunter’s fingers fumbled with the plastic seal before he took the photo out, careful not to bend or ruin the delicate material. Melinda laughing was sort of a foreign concept. Before he and Melinda had gotten together, the only time Hunter heard her laugh was during the undercover mission in Miami. He heard her laugh more often now, usually as a result of a bad joke or past story he told. But even then Melinda was composed, unlike the carefree joy she exhibited in the picture.  ****  
** **

Before he could second guess his decision, Hunter tucked the photograph into the inner pocket of his jacket, looking around as if anyone else had seen him do so. It was foolish since he was the only one in the attic still, but it felt strange taking something that wasn’t his. Nonetheless, Hunter continued his search.  ****  
** **

“Where are you?” Hunter muttered. He went down on his hands and knees, peering under tables, boxes, and any other clutter. Then, a shiny glint of tape peeking out from behind a large painting caught his eye. “Jackpot.”  ****  
** **

It took Hunter squeezing himself between furniture and into the tiniest space before he pulled out a large, well-sealed box. Opening it was harder than he thought. Melinda must really not have wanted anyone to find it or even look into it, and that realization spurred Hunter on. With a few tricks he learned and the creative use of his teeth, the last of the tape fell away and the box lid popped up.  ****  
** **

Promptly, Hunter removed the lid and inspected the contents. The first picture staring up at him was of a middle school aged Melinda with a classic 80’s poofy hairdo, so he guessed it was the right box. As much as he wanted to immediately begin digging through the box, his knees were starting to ache from kneeling on the wood floors for so long. What looked like a couch was sitting against the far wall. Hunter made his way over to it, peeling off the protective tarp before taking a seat. The couch smelled strongly of mothballs, and Hunter knew his allergies would go haywire from sitting there, but he ignored his running nose and opened the box.  ****  
** **

Hunter was so immersed in flipping through the multitude of photos that he lost track of time. The next thing he knew, another voice filled the attic.  ****  
** **

“What are you doing?” ****  
** **

Hunter jumped and a cloud of dust puffed up from the couch cushion as he did. Melinda was standing by the entrance to the attic, looking somewhat amused as she watched him cough and splutter. ****  
** **

“Uh.” He floundered for an answer. “Just looking for-” ****  
** **

“Are those my pictures?” A crease drew between Melinda’s brows as her eyes went to the box in Hunter’s lap. She pushed off of leaning on the doorframe and began walking over. ****  
** **

There was no time for Hunter to shove the box away and no way he could steer Melinda’s mind from it. “Maybe.” He pushed the box to the side as Melinda stood at the end of the couch. “You were up early.” ****  
** **

Melinda suddenly looked apologetic. “I didn’t want to wake you up,” she said. “I know you were exhausted.” ****  
** **

Hunter was indeed exhausted. Tracking someone down was never easy, especially someone like Melinda who knew how to cover their tracks. And of course, breaking in the guest bed only tired him out more. Even though he needed the rest, Hunter wouldn’t have been opposed to waking up beside Melinda.  ****  
** **

“I thought I imagined it all,” he quietly admitted. Waking up alone for six months wasn’t enjoyable and spending those nights awake and worrying about Melinda was even less so.  ****  
** **

Melinda’s face softened. In only a few more steps, she took the seat next to Hunter on the couch, pressing against him. He leaned against her, bringing one arm around her shoulders to pull her even closer. Melinda bumped her nose against Hunter’s before turning his face to hers and kissing him. He sank into her touch, taking his other hand to rest on Melinda’s waist. After six months without this, Hunter cherished every second.  ****  
** **

When they pulled away, Hunter whispered, “Hi.” ****  
** **

Melinda kissed him again, brushing her lips against the corner of his mouth in another brief kiss as she pulled back. “Hi. Did my dad send you up here?” ****  
** **

“I can’t say.” ****  
** **

Melinda only rolled her eyes. “Which box to do you have?” ****  
** **

“There’s more than one?” Hunter perked up. He handed the box to Melinda who opened it back up and rifled through it.  ****  
** **

“I’m not answering that.” ****  
** **

“So that’s a yes.” ****  
** **

Melinda only pressed her lips tight together, but it didn’t last for long as Hunter leaned in and kissed her. She ended up smiling against his mouth and playfully pushed him away as Hunter then began to nibble her neck.  ****  
** **

“You’ve gone through most of this already,” she said, turning her attention back to the box.  ****  
** **

“What exactly is in here?” Hunter asked. He scooted closer to her, watching as Melinda shuffled through pictures. “What are these of?” ****  
** **

“This is the Lunar New Year box,” Melinda told him. “It has all the pictures and things from the new years I spent with my parents.” ****  
** **

“Oh, nice.” Now all the red and gold decorating the inside of the box and items in it made more sense. “Is that what all the dragons are for?” ****  
** **

“Mhm. There’s a different zodiac each year, but every year there are the dragon and lion dances.” ****  
** **

Hunter plucked out a picture from the box, studying the ornate costume and people watching it presumably move. “Is this one of them?” ****  
** **

Melinda peered at the picture. “That’s a lion dance. My dad took me to them every year,” she said before grumbling, “Then one year he forced me to be in one and signed me up without telling me.” ****  
** **

“Is this the year?” Hunter asked, holding the picture up. When Melinda nodded, he asked, “How old were you here?” ****  
** **

“Around nine.” ****  
** **

Hunter squinted at the multitude of tiny, bright red fringe clad legs. “Which one are you?” ****  
** **

Reaching across, Melinda pointed to the last pair. “This one.” ****  
** **

“The ass?” Hunter couldn’t hold back a snort. He hissed as Melinda pinched his side.  ****  
** **

“It was so hot in there,” Melinda said. “The kid in front of me kept stepping on my toes.” ****  
** **

“Does your dad happen to have a video?” ****  
** **

“If he did I would destroy it before you could find it.” ****  
** **

Hunter huffed. “You’re no fun.” He paused before asking, “You still remember the moves?” ****  
** **

Melinda glared.  ****  
** **

“What else is in here? What is this?” Hunter pulled out a framed picture. As he did, Melinda scowled.  ****  
** **

“I hate that picture.” ****  
** **

The framed photo was an official-looking family portrait of the Mays, only, a fourteen-year-old Melinda, stuck between her parents, was scowling much like she was currently. Her arms were at her sides, but Hunter could see how her fists were clenched tight. Melinda’s expression was a strong contradiction to the smiles her parents wore.  ****  
** **

“What are you wearing?” ****  
** **

“A new year’s suit.” Melinda’s tone was of pure distaste as she stared at the photo. “I absolutely refused to wear the dress version my mother wanted me to so we finally settled for a pantsuit.”  ****  
** **

Hunter looked closer at the shiny red fabric and the ornate gold pattern that decorated it. “It looks very nice, though.” ****  
** **

“It was itchy. I was forced to try on at least twenty others before we found the right one.” ****  
** **

“It’s a big holiday for you all, then?” ****  
** **

Melinda nodded. “Dad used to sneak me out of school sometimes for it until Mom caught on. He always used to complain about how Americans got their New Year’s off, but we didn’t. Granted, Chinese New Year is celebrated much longer than the American new year.” ****  
** **

“How long is it?” ****  
** **

“Fifteen days, sometimes less.” Melinda shrugged as she flipped through more photographs. “My mom always made sure she was home on the first day. I remember one year she wasn’t and I was  _ so  _ mad. I didn’t talk to her for the rest of the holiday.” ****  
** **

Hunter frowned. “Why?” ****  
** **

“All I cared about during the new year back then was spending time with my parents,” Melinda told him. “It was always the few days where my mom made sure she was home. When she wasn’t, it felt like she didn’t care about the holiday, even though I know that isn’t true.”  ****  
** **

“I’m sure she would have been there if she could.” ****  
** **

Melinda nodded before pulling out another picture. “That was the year I set one of the lanterns on fire.”  ****  
** **

Hunter laughed. The photo she held must have been taken seconds before disaster because the May’s were smiling with their intact and lit lanterns. “I would ask how you managed to do that, but I’ve seen you in the kitchen.” ****  
** **

“After that year I wasn’t allowed to light them anymore.” ****  
** **

“Probably for the best. Wouldn’t want you to catch that suit on fire.” ****  
** **

Melinda scoffed. “I wanted to burn it.” ****  
** **

The next item Hunter pulled from the box was a large envelope, yellowed with age. There was a label with writing on it, but Hunter couldn’t read Chinese. “What’s this?” ****  
** **

Melinda took the envelope with a sentimental smile. Opening it, she pulled out several strips of bright red and gold paper, all adorned with thick black Chinese characters. “When I was five, dad taught me how to write my name in calligraphy,” she said. “Every year the three of us would write our names and hang them up.” ****  
** **

Hunter touched one of the papers. “This yours?”  ****  
** **

“No, this one.” Melinda pulled out a different paper. “This was the last one before my parents divorced.” ****  
** **

“You still know how to write it?” ****  
** **

“I do.” ****  
** **

“Can you teach me?” Hunter asked hesitantly. “Maybe this year we can do that together.” ****  
** **

“The new year’s already passed, Lance.” ****  
** **

“Next year then.” ****  
** **

Melinda didn’t exactly agree, but she didn’t say no either. Instead, she patted his thigh. “I think that’s enough for today; we’ve gone through the whole box.” ****  
** **

Indeed, packages of pictures and other items were strewn over the couch while the box remained empty aside from a few stray papers.  ****  
** **

“You sure you don’t want to look at any more?” Hunter teased. “I don’t think I found the middle school years album.” ****  
** **

Melinda narrowed her eyes at him as she helped put the contents of the box away. “And you won’t.” ****  
** **

“You were a very cute baby, though.” ****  
** **

“And yet I still haven’t seen any pictures of you when you were younger.” ****  
** **

“You wouldn’t want to,” Hunter laughed. “I had the biggest ears as a kid. Mum had to practically tape them down when I wore a hat in the winter.” Instead of placing the box on the table next to the couch, Hunter grabbed it up, playfully stating, “I’ll just take this.” ****  
** **

Melinda’s answer was immediate and sharp. “No. That stays.” ****  
** **

“Aw, come on.” Hunter pouted. “You mean I can’t keep these?” ****  
** **

“No. Those don’t leave this attic.” ****  
** **

Hunter opened his mouth to protest but remembered about the pictures he took. “Fine.” ****  
** **

When Hunter stood up, Melinda glanced to his feet. “Are you wearing my dad’s slippers?” ****  
** **

“The floor was cold,” Hunter defended. “And I didn’t know what all was up here. What if I stepped on a nail?” ****  
** **

Melinda rolled her eyes. “There aren’t any loose nails up here. Besides, I think you did enough nailing last night.” ****  
** **

Hunter spluttered, eyes nearly bugging out of his head at her statement. Clearly, Melinda’s sense of dirty humor was inherited. He watched as Melinda began to climb down the ladder. “Come on. Dad’s making lunch.” ****  
** **

“Lunch?” Hunter asked as he followed her. The clock in the laundry room displayed that it was nearly eleven thirty. Almost two hours had passed, but to Hunter, it felt like only half an hour did. “We were up there that long?” ****  
** **

“How many albums did you get through before I came up?” Melinda asked.  ****  
** **

“Around three I think.” Hunter shrugged. “I lost count.” ****  
** **

“Find anything interesting?” ****  
** **

A picture flashed in his mind. Hunter made sure to keep his jacket wrapped around him so Melinda wouldn’t by chance see the photo tucked inside. “Yeah. You had a great bowl cut when you were tiny.” ****  
** **

“Oh god,” Melinda groaned over Hunter’s laughter. “If you show that to anyone else I’ll kill you.” ****  
** **

“You wouldn’t kill me.” ****  
** **

“That doesn’t mean you couldn’t sleep on the couch for the rest of the year.” ****  
** **

“Please,” Hunter scoffed. “You’d miss me.”  ****  
** **

“You’re right.” Melinda held her hand out to him, and Hunter took it, following her out of the laundry room. “I would.”

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading! Happy Lunar New Year to those who celebrate it! Xīn nián kuài lè!


End file.
